Winter's Vengeance
by Saint Arbuckle
Summary: Sion, a mage and warrior, who serves Auril the Frostmaiden... together with the wizard Toleth, travels throughout the Sword Coast, bringing death and destruction to those in his way... SLASH
1. ONE

**ONE**

****

 I remember the pain of the brand as it was placed on my chest, the searing heat burning into my skin with vicious intensity. The cackles of the slave-master as he hit me again and again, laughing as I wept, laughing as I tried my best to resist him. But what could an eleven year old boy do against a heavy, muscled man whose fortune had been made fighting in Maztica? 

 There was nothing I could do. After having branded me his property, he lay me down, stroking me, calling me his pretty slave… his fresh young meat. And then he inflicted upon me, horrors that I didn't even know existed. He held me down, and, although I still fought, he thrust inwards, again and again, and I screamed, crying for the parents he had killed.

 And then he left me, my soul torn apart by torment, to wash myself… to make myself suitable for the business of the day. I wept again and again as I sat in the hot bath, looking at my bruised form with shame, hoping that I could just drown… just drown and remove myself from the Realms.

 For three years, I stayed, trapped by the slave-master, until I was fourteen. On the day when the moon was especially full in the sky, and when the heat of the day lingered on into the evening, he came into the tent he kept for me, sweating, and hungry to touch me. Yet as he was standing over me, in the position I had come to know, and fear, there were shouts of alarm from outside the tent.

 Angar turned away from me, annoyance flashing in his eyes, and drew a sword from his belt, rushing outside. As the tent flap stirred, I could see a scene of pure chaos, and one that set my blood burning with a strange sense of arousal… I searched the tent, and I found a simple silver knife, used for cutting steak. Holding its cold surface, I kissed it, and smiled to myself as the pleasurable iciness of the blade touched my lips, sending shivers of excitement all the way down my body.

 My grip tightened on the handle of the knife, and I moved outside, into the world of burning, slaughter and fighting. Blood seemed to be everywhere, but rather than finding myself repulsed, I was intrigued, and a desire rose within me to be the cause of this blood. And I lifted the knife to my eyes once again, and smiled… feeling a strength rise within me that I had not had before.

 Horsemen, clad in armour, and bearing lances, were riding throughout the camp, killing the mercenaries who served my master. As they killed, they called out prayers to their gods of righteousness, and I realised then how paltry their desire for goodness was. How much better it was to _become _the evil, rather than let the evil rule you… 

 But even then, at only fourteen, I knew that I was weak. I knew that I would have to be cunning if I was to survive… if I was to prosper in the Realms. So I ran madly around the burning tents, not having to_ pretend_ to be frightened. For deep down, I was frightened in reality. 

 I ran away from the armoured horsemen, who charged, crying out their dedication to the Order. They parted through the undisciplined mobs of mercenaries like hot knives through butter… or rather, hot _swords _through butter. Yet there was one point in the encampment, where they failed to win. 

 Around Angar, that brute who had forced himself upon me, the mercenaries were rallying, and had even brought down a few knights. It was then that a thought, sinuous and treacherous, wormed its way to the front of my mind… all I had to do was make these knights admire me… make them take me in… and I would be safe, surrounded by the goodness of warriors… safe to work my treacheries, treacheries that were already taking shape in my mind.

 I moved so that I was within the ring of mercenaries, standing alongside Angar, who looked at me strangely. I gave him a smile… a very seductive, playing smile, and whispered, "I am yours, master. I will stand with you against these knights of righteousness."

 And would you believe it, he smiled. He smiled at me, and patted me on the shoulder, though the pat lingered slightly, as he stroked my bare shoulders, then my bare chest, before playing with the soft cloth of my loincloth. "Later, Sion… later I will show you what you mean to me."

 But I already knew what I meant to him. I had known for three years, that to him, I was little more than a whore… but a whore he could take without paying, without regard or care for me. He was a man who fancied himself my parent. He was a man that _I _viewed a bastard.

 So as he turned to face the battle, I pulled out my knife, kissed its cold blade, and whispered a prayer to the one I knew would be watching over me. She who had watched me all my life, gradually subverting my innocence to something cold and cruel… she who would give me the power that I craved now, the power that would put _me _where Angar stood, that would put _me _in control.

 My master looked at me then, and frowned in puzzlement as he saw me kiss the blade again. That frown turned to pained shock however, when I stabbed him in his genitals. His high-pitched shriek tore through any humanity I had left, and as he fell to the floor, writhing and clutching at his bloody extremities, I laughed, excited by the pain… excited by the way his struggles were slowing… excited by the way his lips tried to move… excited by the way the light in his eyes faded as the coldness of death crept in.

 With Angar dead, the mercenaries crumbled, and they fled from the wrath of the knights. I, however, clutched my knife, and, as the warriors of righteousness approached, I shuddered, and started to cry. Part of it was real, part of it was not. Because as much as I despised the knights that took me in- they had come too late, after all- I loved them also, for they had saved me.

 They had set me free.

 The evil in my heart put me on my new path.

__________________________________________________________________________________

 They trained me as a knight.

 For seven years, I worked harder than I ever had before, and the softness of my skin was transformed into solid muscle. My eyes changed from their wide-eyed blue, to a darker, more austere blue. My hair, a brilliant gold, changed after years in the sun, to a brighter gold, a curled set of curled locks that I could have spent hours twiddling with, had I the time.

 The physical training was tiring, for I had to learn endurance, speed, strength and dexterity. I would spend days at a time shifting rocks from one side of the training yard, to the other, fighting against my body and its screaming, groaning muscles. I mastered the art of sword and bow, enjoying the sense of sword ringing upon sword, and even finding occasional pleasure in the brief flash of blood from a small cut. I masked my enjoyment well though, and even, to cement my trickery, appeared to be reluctant to fight.

 Certainly, I never volunteered trouble, and for that, I was loved and admired by my tutors. The clerics took me aside, realising that I must be something special, and so on top of my physical training, I was tutored in the arts of diplomacy, in the tenets of faith, in military and economical lore, about the theory of magic, about the history of the Sword Coast… I learned the correct way to bow in a ceremonial parade; I learned the correct way to address someone in Tethyr. 

 During those times, when I was busy, I was almost happy. I wonder sometimes, that if I was left alone, I could have overcome the evil within my soul, I wondered if I could have become what the paladins wanted me to become- a warrior for light and justice. It troubles me, for it turns me from someone that is in control, to someone that has become what he is through circumstance rather than choice.

 When I was sixteen, when I still had five years left of my training, I was walking through the Castle Ward of Waterdeep, my longsword in my belt, and smiling at the pleasant, salty breeze that was being washed through the city from the sea. As I walked, I became aware that I was being followed, by one tall man, who wore dark black robes, with no adornment at all, nor any symbol with which I could judge his purpose.

 The curious streak that has always existed within me, a coiled serpent of steel, commanded me to stop, and, powerless to resist, I did so. I turned to look at him, and something whispered to me from within, something that told me that the darkness within my heart was reflected within this man. My blue eyes met his grey, and I was aware that they faced me, offering me a challenge.

 "My name is Tôleth," the robed figure stated simply, his voice soft, lingering and musical. "I am an emissary of the mistress, who watched you as you suffered under Angar… she has commanded me to teach you all that I know, that you may grow, and nurture the darkest desires that you have, lurking within you. I know… _she _knows, all that you want. You want revenge, you want to make people pay for what you have suffered… and she will let you have all of that, and more."

 And with those words, my true education began. 

 That same day, he took me down a shadowed alley, and he tapped once on the stone wall. There was a faint distortion- a swirl, and then the wall disappeared in a small section, revealing a gaping doorway, that brimmed with malevolent shadows. His hands, gloved in black leather, rested on my back, and slowly travelled lower, lower, almost tender in their administrations.

 When it had been Angar, I had hated it. But with Tôleth, and his clear, beautiful voice whispering in my ear, telling me to embrace the darkness, I loved it. I leaned into his touch, and let him kiss me softly on my neck, crooning, and wrapping his arms around my waist, touching me ever-so gently…

 The door closed behind me, and we were plunged into darkness. He made love to me in the darkness, and I cried out as I had while I lay beneath Angar. But this time, I cried out in pleasure, calling out to the mistress that had sent him to cross my path.

 During the same seven years in which I trained under the knights of the order, I was trained by Toleth, in the arcane arts. At first, I was a slow student. "Sion," he said one night, as we lay sweating, entwined in each other's arms. "You have a mind that is grounded in the world of swords… in the world of paladins and knights. That is all very well. You view magic as hazy and second-rate, and why should you not? You have been trained by knights. But know that if you can understand the secrets of sorcery, then swords are as mere tools, as are the minds of men themselves. If I wished to, I could bend your mind to my will, forever, and powerless as you are at the moment, you could do nothing to stop me."

 That veiled threat, spoken as every with silken undertones, yet with a shivering promise of what might happen should I fail, spurred me forward. I progressed quickly- surprisingly so, according to Tôleth, who said that he had debated killing me and ending the threat I posed. I was not overly concerned. As he whispered: "The mistress has forbidden me to kill you though… unfortunately."

 After seven years, on my twenty-first birthday, I was faced with three different proposals. Tôleth, wrapping me in his soft thighs, and kissing me with passion as he groaned, asked me to travel with him, to learn with him the secrets of the arcane… Caladorn, as he tested my reflexes with the longsword, grinned, and said I was worthy enough to become a member of the Order… and Kevin, a sage for the order, encouraged me to continue academic studies…

 Do you even have to _ask_ which path I chose?

 Kissing Tôleth fiercely, I told him that I would travel with him, and that together we would become such a force, that the defenders of goodness and justice would tremble before us, and that we would have _hundreds _of slaves to answer our every whim, as decadent as it might be.

 It was then, that I learned the name of my mistress. She was Auril, the Frostmaiden, one of the Gods of Fury. And she had taken an interest in me, a youth trained in the Art _and _in the ways of battle. I knelt beneath her altar, in a ruined temple east of Waterdeep, and she took the last of my innocence, the last of my childhood, and turned it into ice, and through Tôleth, breathed into me the fury of winter.

 And with that kiss, so much more potent than any of the hundreds I had shared with Tôleth, my world flashed, and the barriers between right and wrong vanished completely. The wizard looked at me, and we made love beneath the gaze of Auril, and she felt the power of her two servants, and was well pleased, for through us both, a great winter could descend upon the Sword Coast.

 What a winter it would be.


	2. TWO

**TWO**

 I must admit, even I felt a pang of sorrow as I left the training grounds. The Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart had, even if they had failed me when I was younger, provided me with a home, and had given me a quality of training that hundreds would have killed for- although, technically, I _did _kill for it. The blood of Angar was already upon my hands when I entered the grounds.

 The blood of about ten others had been added to it when I left. 

 Occasionally to test out the magical knowledge Tôleth had given me both of us would sneak through the streets, and break into houses. It entertained me to lead my victims in an elaborate chase… a great ruse. Sometimes, I would go, and pretend to be at the wizard's mercy, and the weak-hearted fools would come to save me, only to die, their blood pouring all over me, screaming and crying for mercy. And that alone was a sign of their idiocy.

 There was no mercy in the world.

 Tôleth would watch me with a wry grin on his face, and sometimes, laughing as we did so, we would make love in the blood of our victims. And every night, I would return through the secret portal into my dormitory. Sometimes, I wonder how the paladins, who supposedly had the ability to protect evil, failed to notice my night-time excursions, but if they had, I would have had another tool present to protect me.  

 Dami, who was two years older than me, watched me leave every night with interest. He knew more about me than any other person within the training grounds, for both our souls had some dark depths to them. One night, he confided in me that he despised all that these knights did. And as he confessed that, I found myself seeing him in a new light.

 He was not some sanctimonious squire. No… he was an attractive son of a nobleman, who was concentrating on winning his spurs, so that he could please his father. And his father wanted Dami to gain his spurs, because it would win his family greater influence in Waterdhavian society. 

 There were many people in the training grounds like that, though I never bothered to find time to locate them all. I was content with Dami, for both of us understood each other. On the nights when Tôleth did not call for me, using a charm he had placed on my brand- it would feel unnaturally cold when he wished for my presence- me and Dami would enjoy ourselves.

 His hair was raven black, his eyes a deep green, and when I kissed his firm, adventurous lips, I would look into those eyes, and melt away, both of us groaning in muffled pleasure, grasping onto each other for dear life. He took me to places I had never been too with Tôleth, for with the wizard, it had always been unequal. The wizard had been so much more powerful, so much more experienced. 

 Dami and I were equals.

 He was the only one really that I missed in Waterdeep. As I left, riding behind Tôleth- who I had told Dami much about- he smiled at me, in a way that promised we would see each other again someday, and that he was looking forward to it. Tôleth would do for now, but one day, I swore to myself, I would return for Dami, and together we would rid the world of arrogant fools like the knights.

 Tôleth looked at me, questioning. I shook my head. "Are you sorrowful to leave them?"

 "No," I answered quickly and firmly.

 It would not do for him to find out about Dami… the wizard had already proved to me that he was jealous. A peasant boy who I had once found enjoyment with had been seen hanging outside the grounds of the Order one morning. None of the knights knew what it was about, but I knew perfectly well- it was a deliberate action by Tôleth to tell me that I was his, and that any treachery on my part concerning my body would be met by swift reprisal.

 As Waterdeep stretched behind us, the massive walls and towers becoming smaller with every league we travelled, I smiled, for a great sense of freedom had descended upon me. I and Tôleth were now equals… for the time being… we both served the same goddess… and we both had immersed ourselves in the arcane arts.

 "Where shall we go, mrannd'ssinss?" 

 I deliberately used the drow word for lover, smiling as I did so, knowing that the strange music of the drow dialect would set fire to the senses of my partner. Indeed, his eyes brimmed with a sudden desire, and he moved his horse so that he rode close to mine. He kissed me softly on my lips.

 "You do know how to please, don't you?"

 And he ran his gloved hand through my hair, brushing my forehead tenderly. My breath caught for a moment, as a tingling sensation ran across my skin. I crooned slightly, and a near-purr of contentment left my lips. He nodded once, amused, and then nudged his horse forward.

 "We travel south, to Baldur's Gate. I have an associate there that I think you would like to meet. There is great work to be done. The temple of Helm is in disarray, for their leader has been killed most brutally. Now is the time for the servants of Fury to strike. Umberlee, Talos, and Malar have urged their followers in the Gate to join in a holy crusade against the Helmite church. Auril's followers this far south exist rarely, which is why _we _must go there, to act as the representatives of the Frostmaiden in the venture."

 A sudden surge of excitement shot through me when he said that, and I closed my eyes, imagining the duty-bound clerics of Helm bound before me, as I wiped the sweat from their foreheads, and gently teased their lips with my tongue, touching their bare skin, and whispering seductive words in their ear using the drow dialect, that they might travel to the underworld with the memory of my voice ringing in their ears as they stand before their god, disgraced.

 "I can hardly wait, Tôleth."

 He said, "I can see that. You are a dangerous man, Sion. I am glad that we are bound by bonds stronger than desire. It is a great fortitude that has allowed our paths to cross, that has allowed us to taste each other."

 "It has nothing to do with fortitude, lover, it is through the will of Auril that we ride together this day."

___________________________________________________________________________________

 They attacked us about twenty miles north of Baldur's Gate.

 A force of about twenty bandits, wearing crude chainmail and carrying rusted weapons. I looked at the bandits, hardly knowing what I was meant to do, but that faded swiftly once my instincts kicked in. The single bandit on a horse, who I assumed must be the leader, galloped towards me, his sword in much better condition that the rest.

 Trained vigorously by the most talented knights of Waterdeep, I drew my own sword, and waited for the leader of the bandits to close the gap. He did so quickly, and I had time to register that he was a middle-aged, slightly fat man with greying hair- nothing that appealed to me. His sword slashed downwards, and I noted that his swing was rather clumsy.

 Used to training with knights, I was about to warn him that his swing was flawed, but then I smiled. There were no knights to see me here. I could do what I liked. My blood started to pulse faster, and I must have grinned, because he frowned. I parried his clumsy blow and, as quickly as I could, slashed lethally, and cut a deep scar on his cheek. He paled, and raised his sword again to try to strike at me.

 Giggling slightly, excited by blood as I always was, I stabbed him in his shoulder, and, limply, he dropped his sword to the ground, its loud clunk echoing loudly. I smiled comfortingly at him then, and, with comforting pat on his head, ran him through, my sword piercing into his heart.

 He coughed once- blood spurting from his suddenly pale lips, and then he fell from the horse like a sack of wheat. His horse, agitated by the smell of blood, reared upwards, and started to gallop along the road. I could easily find it again and get whatever loot I wanted from the saddlebags.

 I turned to look at Tôleth, and saw he had burned to ash any of the bandits who had come to close- only three of them had been stupid enough to try. Sighing, I wondered why my lover hadn't chosen the obvious spell that would dispose of them all, and in a way that would be beneficial to us all. 

 People that attacked supposed innocents on the road would hardly be opposed to us, after all, would they? Deciding to follow that train of though, I started to cast a quick spell, and the bandits looked at me in fear, realising that they faced _two _wizards. But that fear faded quickly, when I sent pale yellow ball of magical, glistening energy soaring lazily towards them. 

 It struck one of the bandits, and then scattered, touching each other bandit once. I smiled as they grunted, and each one fell to the ground, eyes closed, and a dopey grin on their faces. A simple sleep spell, that would keep the majority of them incapacitated.

 Tôleth looked at me. "What are you thinking, Sion? We cannot have our way with _all _of them… not that I would even touch most of these…"

 I chuckled softly at my lover, and said, "Is that all you believe I ever think of, _sex?_ No… that hasn't crossed my mind. I have you at my side, Tôleth. What need have I of any other man? What I suggest is offering these bandits a chance for employment, and a chance for riches. Think of it: if we arrive in the Gate with only two of us, our presence and influence in the crusade will be minimal. If we arrive with sixteen bandits, then our role will increase, and our share of the glory will increase with it. Not to mention the benefit's that our mistress's notoriety will experience."

 My lover nodded, and his eyes glinted. "Yes… a very good plan. But we will have to speak to just one of these bandits… the second in command. Then when the rest will wake up, he can tell them what is going on. Well done, Sion… I can see that you really _are _cut out for this, after all."

 We had a moment's brief debate, deciding which one was the second-in-command, and we finally decided that a tall fellow with black hair and equally black eyes, who had weapons of slightly superior quality- he carried two katanas- was the most likely candidate.

 Tôleth woke him up, and I watched as the bandit sat up, lethargically, blinking, as if unsure where he was. When he saw the wizard, he flinched, but did not attack. Whoever he was, it was obvious that he was intelligent, for he knew when he was outmatched.

 "Why have you not killed us?"

 Immediately, I knew he was something different. He referred to the bandits as _us_, which straight away told me that he viewed them as a group, as a unit of warriors. It meant that these bandits had been travelling together for a long time, and that anything that might threaten their 'brotherhood' would be refused. Any offer that posed a threat to their way of life would be disregarded

 In the drow tongue, which few understood, I told Tôleth what I thought: "Uk telanthen d' mina 'zil natha vla'rinnyn. Uk gumash nauxahuu l' gultah."

 _He speaks of them as a brotherhood. He could refuse the offer._

 The wizard nodded. "Usstan zhaun, drill plak'la orn drewst tangis' l' valmuth d' vla'rinnyn. Khaless uns'aa…"

_ I know, but gold will remove even the bonds of brotherhood. Trust me._

I rolled my eyes. "Dos telanth d' khaless wun l' xanalress d'lil ilythiiri?"

 _You speak of trust in the language of the Drow?_

"Ves al. Ori'gato uns'aa telanth folbol endar: tlu venorik, Usstan zhaun vel'bol usstan tlun xunin."

 _Very well. Let me say something different: be silent. I know what I am doing._

 Sighing, I let him speak. Tôleth had probably done this before, anyway, and I was just distracting him from the negotiations. I met the eyes of the bandit, and he gave me a slight nod, as if he recognised me… but that couldn't be possible, could it?

 "Is that the language of the drow?"

 Whoever this bandit was, he was far from the usual vagabond. Tôleth said, "Yes. It is."

 "Where did you learn it?"

 "I learned it from a drow elf who was a servant of my mistress. I was the one that taught Sion here, though I regret his skill with the language far surpasses my own. I suppose it comes from wanting to be part of their culture of seduction and murder."

 I smiled. "Tôleth, hadn't you better continue with the negotiations?"

 The wizard nodded. "What is your name?"

 With a roguish grin, the bandit said, "Elbran. I am the leader of the Sixth Claw mercenary band… unfortunately, we have fallen onto hard times, and I recently hired out to that fool on the horse, who got himself so merrily spit on your sword… nice handiwork, by the way."

 To humour him, I gave him a gracious nod. "Thank you. I trust I will get a chance to view yours at a later date…"

 "I'm sure you will. Now…Tôleth, is it? Yes… what are these negotiations?"

 He was very good, and hardly even seemed fazed that we held his life in our hands. That was partly what attracted me to him at the beginning. Later on, it was his loyalty- or rather, the way he gave it only to me, and not to my former master. 

 You see, even then, I was planning ways to elevate myself above Tôleth. No matter what we called each other, there was no _love _involved in any of it, only pleasure and convenience. We would serve each other as equals, until the time came when we reached a disagreement, and then we would pit ourselves against each other.

 "My partner, Sion here, suggested that we offer your band an employment, and we woke you thinking that you were the second-in-command. Obviously, we were mistaken, but our mistake has turned out even better. If you are the leader, it gives you the authority to negotiate."

 Elbran said, "I'll do it."

 Tôleth raised an eyebrow. "You don't know what we are going to ask… and you haven't said how much you will charge for it."

 The bandit said, "We owe you our lives."

 I saw my partner sigh. "Debt is not a good way to conduct business, Elbran. We will pay you five hundred gold, and allow you to keep twenty percent of all plunder. For that, you will agree to defer to us in everything, no matter what we ask you to do."

 An amused twinkle entered the eyes of the bandit. "_Everything?_That sounds interesting, though I doubt most of my men would approve… actually, I think I am the only one that would approve of such a turn of events. Rest assured, Master Tôleth, you can order me to do anything you like."

 "Good", said Toleth, as he turned to me. "Usstan xuat saph nindol nest."

 _I don't like this man._


End file.
